


Don't Tell Me 'Cause it Hurts

by mizface



Category: due South
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizface/pseuds/mizface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were lots of things Irene Zuko never wanted to hear.  On the top of that list was ‘I love you’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Me 'Cause it Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for ds_shakespeare, for the prompt:   
> I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow  
> Than a man swear he loves me.   
> _Much Ado About Nothing_
> 
> A few lines lifted from _Juliet is Bleeding_. I cannot thank akamine_chan enough for her beta work on this. She really helped make sure I thought everything through.

There were lots of things Irene Zuko never wanted to hear. On the top of that list was ‘I love you’. 

Love, she’d found, was a dangerous thing. It could be used against you so easily, in so many ways. Intentionally or not, love could, by its very nature, cut you soul deep and create scars that would never heal. Hardest was love’s deceptive nature – it was supposed to be a good thing, supposed to comfort, to make life worth living, to be something you strived for, not shied from.

But for her, love had come to mean anything but the hearts and flowers poets had made it out to be.

 

“I love you, Irene.”

“Then let’s leave, Ray!” she pleaded, fighting tears. “We can make a life together, away from Frankie, from the family, from everybody.”

Ray shook his head, looking no happier than she felt. “I can’t do it. I have responsibilities.” He looked deeply into her eyes, as if willing her to understand. She deliberately looked away, not caring that it hurt him. He was hurting her; it only seemed fair.

“They can’t expect you to take care of them forever, Ray. You have to have a life too.”

“So what, I should just go, no warning, make them fend for themselves? They haven’t had enough trouble with the men in my family, I need to add to it?”

“You’re not like your pop, Ray.” Irene reached out to put a hand on Ray’s arm, but he moved away, pacing and running a hand through his hair.

“I would be, though, doing something like that.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know why you’d want me if I did.”

Irene’s heart sank. She knew he was right about that; part of the reason she loved him was because she knew how much family meant to him, how well he took care of his mother and sisters. She shook her head, feeling the tears start.

“Then what do we do? I want us to be together, but…”

“But you gotta think about your family, what they need, same as me.” Ray held her face in his hands, kissing her softly as his thumbs gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I swear to you, Irene, if there’s a way to make this work, I’ll find it. But we have to stay. Running won’t solve anything.”

She pulled him into a tight embrace. “I know, Ray. I just… I just don’t know if there’s a way to find.”

 

Things changed that night. Their time together held an undercurrent of despair that Irene couldn’t shake off. It was almost a relief when she was made her annual trip to her aunt and uncle’s for the summer. Ray wrote her weekly, sometimes more. He was working hard, he was studying, he was going to make something of himself. They’d find a way. And she believed him, until the day she got his letter about joining the Chicago PD. As always, his letter was hopeful, but all she could do was cry bitter tears when she read it. Whether he’d meant to or not, Ray had made a decision that was sure to end their relationship. The only kind of cop her family would accept was the kind they could keep in their back pocket, and a dirty cop was something Ray could never be. 

That truth was made clear when her brother came for a weekend visit and she found him in her room, going through her things. Ray’s latest letter was in his hand when she confronted him.

“Why are you reading my private letters, Frankie?” Her voice was surprisingly steady; she could feel herself shaking with anger and fought to control it.

Frank shook his head. “I’m your brother – I just want to protect you.”

“Ray Vecchio is probably the one person that I _don’t_ need protection from, Frank,” she countered. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“He isn’t right for you, Irene,” he replied, holding up the letter. “This just proves it.”

She snatched it from his hands. ”All it proves is that he’s a good man, that he wants to make this world better. How can that make him wrong for me?”

Frank looked at her. “Come on, Irene,” he scoffed. “A Zuko, married to a cop? Pop will never let it happen.”

“He might, if you backed me up,” she challenged.

Frank shook his head. “I love you, ’Rene, but I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

“You mean you won’t,” she spat out, holding up a hand to forestall any reply. Though she hadn’t expected anything different, it still hurt. And she had no intention of letting him see that. “Get out of my room, Frank,” she said, turning her back on him to walk to the window. “We have nothing to talk about.”

 

Her father had called her a few days after Frank’s visit.

“Irene, la mia ragazza dolce,” he began. His use of the Italian endearment made her wary. His next words made her tense up even more. “I’d like you home this weekend. You can do this, yes?”

“Of course, Papa,” she replied automatically. Not that she had a choice – she knew that tone. He had something planned, and no wasn’t an acceptable response. While she’d heard him speak of her ‘spunk’ with a mix of pride and amusement, he expected obedience.

“Good, good,” he replied absently, her answer obviously never in question. “On Saturday, I’m having a little dinner for the de Luca family. Enrico asked about you special. You remember Enrico, Irene?”

She did. He was a few years older than her, tall, and handsome enough if you didn’t mind the cold look in his eyes. “I remember him.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Her father sounded pleased. “It will be good that you’re here.” They talked for a few minutes more about her travel arrangements; she had little to add, but he didn’t seem to notice how quiet she’d gotten. 

After he hung up Irene leaned against the wall, eyes closed, the receiver still clutched in her hand. She’d expected something to happen after Frank’s visit, but not this obvious matchmaking. And her father probably thought she’d be happy that he was doing this, that he was helping find her the ‘right kind of boy.’ Irene had no doubt that her father loved her in his way. A part of him probably even thought he was doing what was best for her. She wished that just once he’d ask _her_ what that might be.

She had to talk to Ray. Irene still loved him, but she had to face facts. Her life was not her own, and pretending things were otherwise was just going to keep hurting them both. She took a deep breath, and made the call.

It went better than she’d expected. Maybe they’d both seen it coming. Or maybe Ray was just trying to make it easier for her. She wasn’t sure if it did. Was this better, hearing him say “I’ll never forget you” and “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me”? Had she wanted him to fight for her? Would it have made any difference? Irene did her best not to think about it.

After a brief courtship that felt more like contract negotiations than romance, she and Enrico married. Irene immersed herself in the role of wife, then mother, and tried to forget about loving anyone but her children.

 

“Pop is dead, Irene.”

It hurt to hear the words, surprisingly. She didn’t think it would. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, Frankie.”

“Sorry to ruin your vacation, ’Rene.” He must mean it, at least a little, she thought. He hadn’t called her that in years. Or maybe Pop’s death had really shaken him up. She hadn’t known anything could still do that. “I’ll be home soon,” she repeated, her voice steady.

“Good. It’ll be good to have you here. This is a time for family.”

She made no reply. She hadn’t realized until now just how like their father Frank truly was. Their father… she took a shuddering breath. Their father was dead. That meant Frank would be taking over the business officially. With the new order came new allegiances… and maybe for her, a chance for a new life. Irene started planning as she packed. Frank’s life wasn’t the only one affected by their father’s passing.

 

_I came for you. I love you. I've always loved you._ Ray had said those words earlier that evening in her room. He meant them, she was certain of that. But like before, they didn’t make anything better, didn’t make being together possible. If anything, the situation was worse than it had been all those years ago. Frank was at least as ruthless as their father had been, and the history of animosity between him and Ray just compounded the problem. Her brother hadn’t been supportive of her relationship with Ray when they were younger; now, he was actively against it.

She hadn’t told Ray she loved him, though in truth she’d never stopped. She hated that long ago love had become a luxury she couldn’t afford. She was so damned tired of pushing aside what she wanted for what was expected of her. 'I love yous’ had become rote, a meaningless response.

Ray deserved more than that from her. The question was, did she have more in her to give?


End file.
